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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704779">Dreaming Out Loud</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenoptimist/pseuds/hiddenoptimist'>hiddenoptimist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Harry Styles x Reader Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Riding, Sex, Sleepy Sex, Smut, kind of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:14:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenoptimist/pseuds/hiddenoptimist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds his love stressing late at night and tries to get her to relax.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s), Harry Styles/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Harry Styles x Reader Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dreaming Out Loud</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rain bounced off the window and you flung your head into your hands, knocking one earphone loose. It was 3am and the night was going nowhere. Paper was piled haphazardly in front of you. Pens and highlighters lay scattered across the desk. Your hands were covered in bright yellow ink. You rubbed at your eyes and swore.</p><p>You had a college paper due in two days and you had nothing so far. You’d had three months to write it, but it had taken you half of that time to find a topic that interested you enough. The other month and a half had been spent anxiously avoiding the work. You’d read papers and taken notes that were now illegible under the glow of the desk lamp, yet when it came to the actual writing and putting your ideas down on paper, you baulked every time. How were you supposed to express yourself clearly when your thoughts on the topic were an emotional mess?</p><p>You took a deep breath and leaned back in your chair. You’d taken over your boyfriend’s office for the last week. He rarely used the desk anyway; most of the time he spent in here was on the red padded loveseat on the other side of the room. There were many times you’d searched for him only to find him sitting on the sofa, one ridiculously long leg crossed over the other, scrawling lyrics in his journal. All of those memories were pleasant; you couldn’t ever have predicted your feelings about this room would be tainted by a college assignment of all things.</p><p>The music blaring from your earphone sounded tinny in the calm of the office. You took the other out and stared at the window. The storm that raged outside had been predicted for two days before and you’d thought you’d missed it. You and Harry had been caught out in it earlier that afternoon. It had been raining ever since. You’d spent the evening watching classic films in your pyjamas and playing Scrabble. It was only after night fell that your paper began to gnaw at you. You had tossed and turned, the assignment refusing to leave your mind. If you’d managed to fall asleep, you were sure you would have dreamt of the paper. You’d left Harry behind in bed, fast asleep, and crept through to the office. You thought he’d been asleep, at least.</p><p>There was a creak from the hallway, followed by the soft pad of footsteps on the hardwood floor. Your breath caught in your throat. He’d noticed you were missing. You slipped your earphones in again and bowed your head over your paper, finding a pen and writing something, anything, on the post-it notes in front of you. If he thought you were busy, maybe he’d leave you alone and go back to bed. Maybe he’d even think he was dreaming.</p><p>Light from the hall spilled into the office as the door opened. You heard the low rumble of his voice in the background but couldn’t make out what he was saying. It didn’t come again. Your heart beat faster in your chest; it was the only thing you could hear over the music. Maybe he’d left. You didn’t dare glance up to check.</p><p>Your earphone was tugged out of your ear. You glanced up, startled, to find Harry standing by the desk. He was wearing his lilac dressing gown, with the hood pulled up over his messy hair. He dropped the earphone onto the desk.</p><p>“I woke up and you were gone,” he said. His voice was low and quiet, heavy with sleep. “Are you okay?”</p><p>You opened your mouth to reply but nothing came out. To your horror, you felt the sting of tears. A sob wrenched its way from your throat. Everything hit you all of a sudden: your eyes were sore, your shoulders and back were so tense, and you were exhausted. You’d been carrying all that weight and anxiety for weeks and finally it looked as though it might vanquish you.</p><p>Harry sat on the edge of the desk and pulled you tight to his chest. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay.”</p><p>“I’m so <em>tired</em>,” you said, and it came out like a barely restrained screech. “I have a deadline in, like, two days and I’m nowhere near finished and I thought I could just do it tomorrow but I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about it. I thought I could just do it tonight but it’s not working, nothing’s working, why am I so <em>shit</em>?”</p><p>“You’re not shit, Y/N. You’re knackered.” He kissed the top of your head. “The world won’t end if you leave it ‘til tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yes it <em>will.</em>”</p><p>“It won’t, I promise.” His fingers dug into your shoulderblades. “You’re so tense.”</p><p>“That’s because I know I have to get this done tonight.”</p><p>“Why? Why does it have to be done tonight?”</p><p>You couldn’t come up with an easily explainable answer. How could you tell him that your heart would pound relentlessly until you finished this assignment, that you had to miss out on sleep to complete it because you’d already left it too late and this was what happened when you were sloppy? How could you explain the feeling of impending doom that had made a nest in your chest, that as it grew it spread panic through your veins until every inch of you trembled with the knowledge of your imminent demise? His gown was soft against your cheek, and rather than think about how to answer him you buried your face in his chest, breathing in the fresh fragrance of the detergent and, underneath that, his natural scent.</p><p>Harry held you tighter. “I have an idea.”</p><p>“I’ll die,” you mumbled.</p><p>“That was not my idea.” He rubbed your back. “How about you come back to bed, we get a very good night’s sleep, and then tomorrow we can work through this together? It looks like you’ve got all your notes. I can help you sort through them and we can write it together.”</p><p>“My notes are shit.”</p><p>“Stop saying that.”</p><p>You sat up, sniffing away the last of your tears. “You’ll help me?”</p><p>He nodded. “Yeah. Of course I will. I’d do anything for you, baby.”</p><p>You glanced down at the mess on your desk. It would look significantly better in the morning; right now it looked almost like a murder scene, with blue ink smeared across the pages instead of blood. You pressed the heel of your hand against your eye.</p><p>“Don’t think I can sleep,” you murmured. “Too tired and sore.”</p><p>“I can fix that.” Harry stood up, holding out his hand for you to take. He wiggled his fingers until you slid your hand into his, and then he led you over to the loveseat. He sat down with a little bounce and patted his lap.</p><p>“I’ll give you a massage,” he said.</p><p>“I don’t think it’s ethical to make someone sit on your lap while you massage them,” you shot back, sitting on his bare thighs.</p><p>“How dare you? I’m a professional.”</p><p>“Having big hands and strong fingers doesn’t make you a professional, Harry.”</p><p>He pressed his palm into the centre of your back and you relaxed against him. He may not have been a professional - some of his pinches made you wince and a few times he just prodded you in odd places - but he did know where you were tensest. You kept your eyes closed for the most part, you lips slightly agape, soft moans spilling from them every so often. Every time you made a sound, you heard Harry’s little huff of proud laughter from behind you.</p><p>Eventually, when you were slumped forward, Harry’s long fingers working out the tension in your neck, you opened your eyes. The desk still loomed before you. Just looking at it was enough to make your heart jump into your throat. You could feel your breath catch in your chest, and swallowed. You turned your head, knocking Harry’s hands away from you, and twisted in his lap until you faced him.</p><p>“Alright?” he asked, dropping his hands to your hips.</p><p>You shook your head. “I’m still anxious.”</p><p>He pursed his lips, deep in thought. In the dim light from the desk, with the rain hammering against the window, you thought you could exist in this moment with him forever. His mouth was the colour of a blooming rose, on the border between pink and red, and you couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him. The faint minty aftertaste of toothpaste clung to his tongue. You cupped his face, your fingers brushing against his stubble, as he slid his arms tightly around your waist. When you finally pulled away, you knew what you wanted to do to relax.</p><p>“I have an idea,” you murmured, lips inches from his own.</p><p>“Is it the same idea I have? Because I heard orgasms are really good for relaxation.”</p><p>You laughed and shuffled forward on his lap, getting as close to him as you possibly could. His gown had fallen to one side, the tie around his waist slipping out of the loose knot, and you could feel him hardening beneath you. You slid your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair, and he sighed against your mouth.</p><p>“Will this make you feel better?” he asked softly.</p><p>You nodded, pressing your forehead against his as you kissed him again. His hands slipped down to cup your ass, fingers sneaking beneath the seams of the thin shorts you wore. He squeezed your flesh and you shifted on his lap, feeling your stomach lurch.</p><p>“I’ll carry you through,” he muttered, moving to get up.</p><p>“No, don’t.” You pulled away and smoothed a loose strand of hair away from his face. “Let’s just do it here. Like this.”</p><p>“Here?”</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>He smiled. “You’re going to have to stand up and take your shorts off then, babe.”</p><p>You smirked and kissed him again, brief and hard, nipping at his lips, before you shuffled off him. You pulled your t-shirt off and dropped it on the floor, then stepped out of your shorts. Harry slid his dressing gown off, throwing it over the arm of the sofa, and reached over to the side table to pull a condom from the drawer, laughing at your raised eyebrow. You were on him again before he could lean back. His hands found the crook of your knees, pulling you closer to him, as he placed his lips back on yours.</p><p>One of your hands rested on his chest as the other found his cock. You began to stroke him, revelling in the stifled moan that came from his mouth. He cupped your breasts as he kissed his way down your throat, taking your nipples into his mouth. You could feel your pussy growing wetter. As though he knew what you were thinking, he dropped one hand between your legs and began to rub your clit with his calloused fingers. You gasped, clenching around nothing, toes curling, as he slipped a finger into you.</p><p>“Relax,” he murmured against your skin.</p><p>“I want-” you managed. His cock twitched in your grasp. “Inside me.”</p><p>“Now?”</p><p>“Now.”</p><p>You fumbled for the condom he’d dropped. It had slipped beneath his leg. He winced when you tugged the foil out. As you ripped it open, he peppered your jaw with kisses. Your hands shook as you pinched the top of the condom and placed it over his cock. You couldn’t roll it down. It kept slipping from your grasp, your hands knocking against his arm.</p><p>Harry pulled away and cupped your face, drawing your attention to him. “Let me,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Just let me look after you.”</p><p>You nodded. He took the condom from your trembling hands and put it on himself, rolling down his length with ease. He placed his hands on your hips again, squeezing gently, and then guided you up and over the tip of his cock. His head nudged your entrance.</p><p>“Sure?” he asked again. You mumbled a yes, and he moved one hand from your hips to his cock. “Take it slow. I’ve got you.”</p><p>You began to sink down onto him. He was big and you were so tense; there was a painful burn as your walls stretched around him. Harry held you up, waiting patiently until you were ready. The two of you continued in this manner, working together until you were seated on his hips again, his cock fully inside you. You tilted your head back, eyes falling closed, a soft moan escaping your lips.</p><p>Harry rubbed your stomach. “Whenever you’re ready, babe.”</p><p>You slipped your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his. When you peeked at him through your lashes, you caught sight of the crinkles around his eyes that only appeared when he was smiling. You kissed him, shifting your position in his lap slightly until he gasped against your mouth, and then began to move. It was slow at first, just a shallow movement, until you had worked up to the rhythm that suited both of you. Harry’s hands rested on your hips, helping you move. He pressed rushed, breathless kisses to your neck and chest, wherever he could brush his lips against your skin before you moved away from him. You tangled your hands in his hair again, tugging lightly. You knew he liked that. Harry’s hand shifted almost imperceptibly on your hip, but then his thumb was against your clit again, rubbing small circles. You gasped, clenching around him. You were getting close now, all your anxiety working into a ball of tight energy in your abdomen.</p><p>You pulled his head up by his hair and kissed him. “I’m close,” you murmured, ducking to nip at the pale skin of his throat.</p><p>Your rhythm had been thrown off by his fingers, and you had no choice but to pause as he pushed you over the edge. You shuddered, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, and muffled your moans against his collarbones. He pressed a soft kiss to your hair.</p><p>“Can I-?”</p><p>He didn’t finish his question, but you knew what he wanted. You nodded, shifting onto your knees, hovering above his lap until just the head of his cock remained in your pussy. Harry held tightly onto your waist, squeezing a little to reassure you, and then began to fuck up into you. His hips snapped against yours, hard and fast, and you gasped against his skin. You wanted to scream in ecstasy, but your orgasm had stolen your voice from you. You loved when he did this, when he got rough. It was rare for him, unless you asked.</p><p>He grunted and pulled you down hard against him, wrapping his arms around you. The pair of you sat there for a while, catching your breath. Your anxiety had fled, replaced with pure exhaustion, your limbs heavy. Harry traced lines along your skin, slick with sweat, until his hit a particularly sensitive spot and you flinched.</p><p>“Thought you were asleep,” he chuckled.</p><p>“Nearly,” you mumbled. “Feel better, though.”</p><p>“Yeah? Think you’ll sleep okay?”</p><p>“Mmm. You’ll have to carry me to bed though.”</p><p>“I think I can manage that.”</p><p>Harry picked you up, grinning at your sleepy giggles vibrating against his throat, and carried you back through to the bedroom, his cock still inside you. He laid you down gently on the bed and slipped out of you, removing the condom and tossing it in the bin across the room. You watched through hooded eyes as his wandered into the ensuite and ran the tap. He returned with a washcloth and wiped away the mess between your legs.</p><p>You held your arms out. “Cuddle me?”</p><p>He laughed, throwing the washcloth onto the nightstand. “Demanding tonight, aren’t you?”</p><p>“You love it.”</p><p>He lay beside you, taking you in his arms and kissing your head. “Yeah, I do.”</p><p>You bathed in the warmth of his body and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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